


Apple Crisp

by LipstickAndWhiskey (CopperMarigolds)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (no blood or injuries but topic does include hallucinations and meds), Cute awkwardness, Emergency situation, F/M, Language, hot firefighter!Benny with a beard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperMarigolds/pseuds/LipstickAndWhiskey
Summary: An emergency turns into a connection, which turns into baking an apple crisp. That’s what happens when you can’t get a certain firefighter off of your mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one goes out to all my Benny girls. This is also part of @supernatural-jackles‘ Colors of Fall Writing Challenge. The prompt was Movember.

[Originally posted by girly-fanatic](https://tmblr.co/ZBqaKq1lr5YgL)

****Your day started with a whole lot of yelling. You didn’t know what all the fuss was about until the voice reached through the haziness of your sleep-brain, terror lacing the screaming voice.

You whipped off your comforter, shoved your feet into your slippers and grabbed your robe as quick as you could. Unlocking your door, you saw a shaking form huddled in your doorway.

“Miss Annie! What on earth are you doing out here in the middle of fall in your housecoat? You’ll catch your death!”

You pulled your older neighbor into your small place, pushing her into your soft recliner and pulled a blanket around her shivering frame. The poor thing was freezing, the fact that she was only wearing socks and her nightclothes as worrying as her frantic knocking.

“Now, do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” you asked, hoping that you came across as patient rather than testy due to the early hour. It seemed to work, the way her shoulders slumped, relaxing into the soft warmth surrounding her.

“There was someone in my house! I told Gerald that there was someone on the house trying to kill me. He didn’t believe me!”

You ran your hand comfortingly across her back, trying to get her to settle.

“You saw Gerald, Annie? You’re sure?”

She nodded immediately, grabbing your hand in hers. She was serious. She was also mistaken.

Her husband Gerald had passed away several years ago, and she lived alone. She got regular visits from her daughter, mostly to make sure she was getting her meds on time and that she wasn’t starving. It hurt your heart to think that the poor woman may be having hallucinations, but there also was the very real reality that there actually could’ve been someone in her house.

There was only one thing to do, you supposed. So you made an emergency call.

* * *

The doorbell rang, sending miss Annie into a nervous titter. You hurriedly reassured her all was okay before answering the door. Outside was a large red firetruck, and two first response firefighters standing patiently on your porch. One was a very normal-looking man, like he could be one of those fire safety instructors that you saw on vhs when you were little. The other man was a different story entirely. He was burly and broad-shouldered, all solid manliness as far as the eye could see. A thick beard framed a handsome, albeit slightly shy, smile. It was his eyes that really enchanted you- bright grey blue that sparkled with liveliness as he watched you gape like a fish at him.

“You gonna let us in darlin’? Yer lettin’ in all the cold air in,” he chuckled as you moved aside, surely blushing brightly at both his swoon-worthy accent and being caught in your thoughts. You wrapped your robe tighter around you and he quickly turned serious, focus solely on miss Annie. He poked and prodded, his partner and he asking questions throughout. Finally, he stood and pulled you gently away from them.

“She seems to be shaken pretty bad. When we asked ‘er about any medication she might take, all she said was that you sh’ know.”

You sighed, rubbing at your tired eyes. “I don’t, really. I know that she takes something to even her out since her husband died awhile back. I assume one of the side effects of it is hallucinations, since she kept talking like her husband was still alive. But then she mentioned someone in the house trying to kill her, so I thought- I dunno, I just knew she needed help.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes gone soft and kind. He grabbed your shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. “You did the right thing, cher.” His hands were large and warm against you, lingering before he dropped them at the sound of a hard knock at the door. “And that’ll be the police, darlin’. Want me to get the door for ya?” You nodded, appreciative of the fact that he asked before answering the door like he owned the place.

* * *

Finding a parking space was the easy part. Bucking up was the hard part.

It’d been a few days since the drama, and miss Annie was doing much better. She was on her pills again, and had a housemate now to ease her mind. You were happy that she felt she could rely on you to keep her safe. Something kept nagging at you, though.

That day they all left in their respective vehicles, miss Annie carted away in the ambulance. You didn’t have a chance to say anything to the handsome firefighter before he took off, and the craziness made you forget to even get his name.

And here you were, parked outside of the firehouse. You’d baked an apple crisp, and on a whim decided that it would be a good idea to bring it down to the station. What it was was a flimsy excuse to see the man with the clear blue eyes again. He’d dominated all your idle thoughts and crept into your dreams at night. All you could think of was him.

 _You are a grown-ass woman_ , you scold yourself. _You can do this. Easy peasy rice and cheesy._

You head into the front door of the firehouse, and you know as soon as you meet the eyes of an older portly man that it’s too late to turn back now. He smiles at you, much like your father would- all toothy and silly.

“Now, here’s a sight for an old man. What can I do for such a pretty young thing?”

You bluster, unsure of how well you’d thought this part out. You hadn’t, actually.

“Well, I’m looking for someone,” you say, figuring that was a decent place to start. “I didn’t exactly get his name, but I know he’s a firefighter here. He has an accent-”

He waves his hand around, cutting you off.

“I know exactly who you’re here for, honey. That will be Benjamin. He’s a new transfer here, you know. Good guy, he is.”

“Well that’s nice to hear, Artie,” a new familiar voice says.

You turn, eyeing the man of your literal dreams, standing in the doorway. All you can see is a navy blue firehouse tee covering his broad chest, crossed arms straining at the fabric. His blue eyes sparkle despite the awful lighting, lively and making you fidget under his gaze. He uncrosses his arms, and crosses the room with lazy but purposeful steps.

“I also thought I told ya to call me Benny, Artie. No sense in usin’ that mouthful every time yer talkin’ ta me.” He smiles at you, elbowing you lightly as if you’re in on some elaborate joke. You smile regardlessly, his easy nature putting you at ease.

“You’re just upset that I was talking to your pretty visitor.”

“No, but I did see Roger on his way to your bunk with a can of whipped cream.”

Artie’s eyes bulged and he shot off far quicker than a man his age had any right to, shouting along the way about pranks and his boot up someone’s posterior.

Benny laughed big deep belly laughs that had you laughing along, before laughter trailed off, leaving you in shy quietude. He was beaming at you, your heart fluttering and clenching all at once.

“So ya came to see me, huh?”

“Yeah. I- uh, here,” you shoved the covered bakeware into his sturdy chest, his light grunt the only sound in the room.

He peeled back the tin foil, eyeing the contents.

“It’s apple crisp,” you supplied, his eyes darting up to your own. “I figured you could share with the other guys at the station or hoard it to yourself if you wanted to.” You held up your hands, “No judgement here.”

He chuckled, hand rubbing at his beard until he started scratching at it.

“Itchy?” you asked, immediately feeling stupid for asking the obvious. His lips ticked up pleasantly though, a rueful smile emerging.

“I’m not used to it bein’ so long,” he said raking a hand over it “the fellas wanted to grow ‘em out for movember, but a bet started on who coul’ grow the better beard. And, well, it’s December an’ we still haven’t decided who won yet.”

“Well, I think that is one glorious beard if I do say so myself.”

His smile is full and lazy now, reminiscent of a young boy with a secret. The way his eyes glint in the light makes you think you aren’t too far off with your assessment.

“And what about the man under the beard? What do you think about him?”

You smile shyly, biting your lip to keep it from taking over your face.

“Well I brought him homemade apple crisp. Seems to speak for itself.”

“So if I asked ya out, you wouldn’t turn me down cher?”

You shook your head, pleased as pie at the turn of events. Your teeth dug almost painfully into your lip as you tried to keep your smile at bay, and it was turning out to quickly be a failing effort.

“Well, can’t say that you haven’t left my mind since seein’ ya. So what do ya say to a date, darlin’?”

As your lip slipped from between your teeth, all you could manage was a quiet ‘ _yeah_ ’ from your radiant smile.


End file.
